


Not Always a Bad Thing

by LearnedFoot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (of the non-Iron Man variety), Bondage, Clothing Kink, Desk Sex, Established Relationship, Kink Discovery, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Suit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25572403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: Peter gets himself stuck to a desk. It gives Tony ideas.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 266
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	Not Always a Bad Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aohatsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aohatsu/gifts).



> A small treat for you!
> 
> CNTW only because Peter's age is not made clear. He is whatever age you want, though I was thinking probably 18-19. Also, assume an AU where Tony is alive and broke up with Pepper at some point.

Peter is an idiot.

In the grand scheme of the ways in which he has been an idiot over the years, sticking his own hand to the lab table in a moment of absent-minded clumsiness doesn’t rank very high, but knowing that intellectually doesn’t do anything to quell the embarrassment that settles heavily in his stomach after his first five attempts to fix the situation prove useless.

He would wait it out, except this formula is supposed to be long lasting. Extra long lasting. Ten hours long lasting. And he hasn’t developed the counter-solution yet because, repeat it with him now: he is an idiot.

What he needs is someone with a laser or a very sharp knife to cut him loose. He’d do it himself, except Dum-E has managed to drop all the knives in sight after Peter asked him to bring one over, and now he can’t pick them up. He resists calling the bot useless; he is _not_ going to be mean to him, no matter how tempting it is in the moment. The lil’ dude gets enough of that from Tony.

Which—yeah. There’s no way out of this. He definitely, definitely has to call Tony. Which means interrupting his big board meeting. Which...okay, he probably won’t actually mind that, but still. He just gave Peter full lab privileges a few months ago. This is the worst.

“What do you think, F.R.I.,” he asks conversationally, after reluctantly telling her to let Tony know about his predicament. “Will he just revoke privileges, or is he going to break up with me for being incompetent?”

“Give boss more credit than that, Peter,” F.R.I. says, with more amusement than an AI should be allowed. “He’ll only laugh at you.”

***

Tony does laugh at him. A lot. Like, an exaggerated amount.

“You’re mean,” Peter complains after the laughing has gone on for long enough that it’s starting to actually hurt his feelings a tiny bit.

“Sorry, sorry.” Tony’s grin doesn’t look very sorry. “For someone so elegant, you’re amazingly clumsy, you know that?”

Peter ducks his head, trying to hide that even a compliment hidden inside of an insult is enough to make him blush. He thought he’d get over being flustered around Tony now that his impossible crush has amazingly turned into an actual relationship, but if anything he’s gotten worse. “Yeah yeah. Aren’t you supposed to be nicer to me now that we’re dating?”

“I don’t know what gave you that idea, spiderling. I told you from the start, what you see is what you get. Though...” Tony scratches his beard, considering Peter with a cool detachment that’s sexier than it has any right to be. It doesn’t help that he’s still wearing a full suit from his meeting; dark gray and perfectly tailored, of course. Peter doesn’t know anything about suits, but he knows that he likes how Tony looks in them—put together and powerful in a way he can practically taste. “We _could_ turn this situation to our advantage. ‘Now that we’re dating.’”

Before Peter can ask what he means, Tony closes the distance between them, drawing him into a deep kiss. The dirty kind, with tongue. Peter kisses back because, um, when does he not? It’s been a month, but his mind still reels from shock every time their lips touch, as if part of him is expecting to wake up from a dream to find out none of it is real. His free hand clutches at Tony’s jacket, pulling him closer.

When Tony finally breaks away, his grin has turned as dirty as the kiss. “How do you feel about bondage, Mr. Parker?”

“Um.” The honest answer is he has zero thoughts on the matter, but he’s not about to sound that naive. His other honest answer is he’ll try just about anything Tony wants. “I’ve never tried?”

“Well, no time like the present.” Tony surveys the desk next to Peter, then grabs the web-slinger Peter was adjusting before things went south. He gently pries Peter’s hand from his jacket and moves it to the desk, pointing the slinger at it and raising his eyebrows in silent question: _is this okay_?

Peter swallows slowly, then nods.

A wet glob of web hits his wrist and hand, securing it to the table in seconds. Now that both of Peter’s hands are stuck down, one on either side of him, his senses jump into high alert; a prickle of instinctual adrenaline spikes up his spine. He breathes in deeply, willing himself to relax, but he can’t quite overcome the itch of fear that runs deeper than logic.

“Nice,” Tony muses, prodding the webbing with a finger. He doesn’t stick. “Super-fast acting. Good work.”

Oh, great. The pleasure of praise mixes with Peter’s heightened senses, sending his heart-rate skyrocketing. Is it getting hotter in here? Probably not, but it sure feels like it. He shifts, uncomfortable. “Thanks.”

Tony tilts his head, observing Peter as he moves his fingers to the inside of his wrist, stroking lightly. Peter closes his eyes, overwhelmed; even that small gesture is enough to make his entire body feel like it’s on fire. His cock stirs, half hard in an instant.

“Hey, this still okay, spider-kid?” Tony sounds genuinely concerned, not that it stops him from continuing to touch Peter, dancing his fingers up his arm, stopping to rest at the edge of his collarbone, where t-shirt gives way to skin. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Peter laughs weakly. “Yes, you do.”

“Yes, I do.” Peter hears the smile in Tony’s voice; can see it even with his eyes closed. It makes a warmth that has nothing to do with arousal spread across his chest. He loves that smile so much. “But only in a good way. Is it in a good way?”

“Yeah, it’s in a good way.”

“Tell me.”

This is something Tony likes: trying new things on Peter, hearing Peter describe the experience. He says it’s because he wants to learn every little thing that turns him on (“You don’t get a reputation like mine by accident, I’d hate to disappoint”), but Peter’s pretty sure there’s genuine scientific curiosity at play, too. Tony’s always quick to note the ways Peter’s powers set him apart. It should make him feel like a freak, but it’s hard to feel anything but totally sexy when Tony makes each new observation with reverence in his voice.

“Um, my senses are kind of going haywire,” Peter explains. “Being tied down— _I_ know it’s okay because it’s you, but they haven’t gotten the message.”

“Mmm.” Suddenly Tony’s lips are on his neck, beard rubbing rough under his chin. “Is that why your eyes are closed?”

Peter nods, holding back an undignified sound as Tony nips at his earlobe. He can feel his dick straining against his jeans in earnest now, which is fast, even for him.

Tony must notice, because he cups Peter, squeezing lightly. “I would tell you to relax, but hyperdrive seems to be doing it for you.”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees. His voice sounds thick and distorted, heavy with lust. “Yeah, I, um—yeah. It’s good.”

Tony chuckles, deep and affectionate, making Peter’s dick throb, then pulls away. Peter slants his eyes open to watch him remove his jacket, carefully folding and placing it on another lab table. As he turns back to Peter, he roles his sleeves up to his elbows.

Peter can’t stop himself from whimpering, just a little. Tony cocks his eyebrow.

“That’s a good look,” Peter whispers in explanation. A good look that makes him want Tony to do very bad things to him.

“Just wait until I drag you to a gala.” Tony returns to between Peter’s legs, hands falling to his hips. “If you like this, you’ll love me in a tux.”

“I’ve seen you in a tux.”

Tony leans forward, like he’s going for a kiss, but he stops just short of lips touching. “Yeah, but you’ve never seen me fuck you in a tux. We’ll get a mirror involved.”

As Peter is distracted trying to wrap his mind around _that_ idea, Tony drops to his knees.

“So, wanna see how those heightened senses do with a little extra stimulation?”

Oh, fuck. Yes, yes he very much does.

***

Tony makes quick work of Peter’s pants and underwear, exposing him to the harsh cold of the metal desk, which manages to confuse his sense further in a way that makes him leak precome everywhere.

“This is definitely not proper lab safety proce—” Peter tries to joke, but the words are lost in a gasp when Tony swallows him down in a single movement. “Wow.”

Tony wastes no time starting to bob his head, enveloping Peter in warmth and friction and doing that absolutely insane thing he does with his tongue. In what feels like seconds—what, in all honestly, probably _is_ only seconds—Peter loses any last shred of control. He whimpers and whines as the cold of the table melds with the heat of Tony’s mouth; pleasure coils out from his core through the very edges of his limbs. His fingers flex, instinctively wanting to reach for Tony’s hair, but when he tries to move his hands, they’re stuck in place.

Oh, right.

The realization makes him moan, hips jerking as another jolt of irrational adrenaline shoots through his body. He glances down to see Tony smirking up at him from around his cock, as if he knows exactly what has him so turned on.

“Senses—still—effected,” Peter confirms, as if it’s not already obvious. “I really like— _holy shit_.”

Tony has taken him down his throat, so far his nose is buried in the curls around the base of Peter’s cock. One of his hands stays on Peter’s hip, gripping tight, but the other travels lower, to play with his balls. It feels amazing. It all feels amazing. Beyond. Blowjobs always feel great, but this—unable to guide Tony even a little, utterly at his mercy—is next level.

Peter strains against his restraints, wrists aching with the tension of it, but it’s useless. All he can do is succumb to the feeling of Tony swallowing around him.

“Tony, Mr. Stark, _fuck_ , if you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

Tony keeps doing that. Within moments, Peter is spilling down his throat.

***

As Peter comes down from his high, Tony stands, wiping his lips and looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“So,” he says casually, picking up his jacket and pulling it back on, “I have a meeting to get back to. How about we get you out of those webs?”

Peter is too much of an idiot—and still to high on pleasure—to think of an appropriately snappy reply, so he settles for a hazy affirmative hum. That response breaks through Tony’s cool facade; he smiles the kind of smile that lights Peter up from the inside, then kisses him on the forehead, muttering, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

So, yeah. Peter is definitely an idiot, but he’s starting to think that’s not always a bad thing.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is loved (including any typos you catch...I wrote a lot in the last few weeks, I imagine there are some.)
> 
> This was originally written for an exchange, and re-dated for author reveals. I'm sorry if you've seen it already.


End file.
